[closed] and if tomorrow it's all over

[xmarkstheshot]

[Confrontation does not sit well with Gustave, regardless of its necessity at times. Not that he thinks any sane person enjoys butting heads with other people, especially one's friends, but he really would rather let things smooth over on their own, or at least come to a head in more mature ways. But sometimes, sometimes, passivity isn't an option. Kind of ironic, considering he's gone these ten some years living in the dark when it comes to the truth about Maelle's exposure to the Canvas. His friends have looked at him and decided not to tell him anything.

Gustave spent those first couple of days after his nightmare and subsequent conversation with Verso trying not to rush headlong into anger. And he was angry, mostly to know that Maelle's life didn't appear to hold as much weight to them, but also because they didn't seem to trust him with this. Maybe if he let himself cool off, he would see their side and understand, but while his anger had simmered, sitting with this knowledge has only left him restless and anxious.

So he sought out Sciel first, counting on her calmer temperament and their friendship to soften the conversation. Which it did, though her guilt on not sharing every detail had been evident, too, and still left Gustave frustrated. Lune had been more stubborn and set in her beliefs, which hadn't been a surprise, but definitely made things more difficult. And when he left her home, he felt no better. The people who matter, aside from Maelle, now know that he knows. So what? If they haven't changed their minds after this long, he won't convince them. And after all these years, being suddenly pissed at being effectively lied to changes nothing.

Gustave has simply disturbed their well-deserved peace.

It would be simple to hide away at home after all of that - tempting, too - but life moves on and Gustave remains a functional member of Lumiere society. After another day in the workshop and after his current gaggle of apprentices return home, Gustave heads to the bakery and purchases a small bag of madeleines. Being miserable is a choice, but so is enjoying the little things in life while he can. He doesn't go home immediately; rather he sits at an outlying cafe table and enjoys his little treats, even pinching some off to toss to any gulls that come close enough.]

Comments

[tableauvivant]

[Daylight and Verso aren't really on speaking terms. Night grants him the secrets he's been denied, the anonymity he's long craved, the silence and darkness and isolation that get him as close as he's allowed to exist to the edge of oblivion. And sometimes, it reminds him of those precious few moments when there were no Dessendres in the Canvas – no people left at all aside from himself and his actual sister – and everything felt like it was about to be over. Day doesn't do anything for him besides cast a light on how much he doesn't belong here in the city.

There's a part of him that wishes that he and Maelle didn't have to be on speaking terms, either – that they could choose to live separate existences, divided as they are by her desire for him to live and his to see his life extinguished – but her determination to see him smile is far stronger than anything that motivates him, and so they speak and they speak and they speak, and Verso's sure that they both emerge worse for the wear each time.

That's definitely the case for the conversation they had the night before, which is the sole reason he's out in broad daylight and why he's looking ten years younger. His hair – back to being mostly black – is hidden as best as it can be beneath a newsboy cap. There's nothing to do about his his also-black beard except hope that nobody has paid enough attention to him to notice the difference, and the same applies to how much smoother his skin is, now.

All he wants to do is head back up to his apartment and curl up in his bed and pretend like the void he experiences while he's in a state of so-called sleep is any better than being awake, and he's almost there, the scent of Mathilde's wafting up the street, his own windows panning into view, escape calling out to him from behind the glass, when he turns the last corner and sees Gustave parked outside at one of the tables.

Suddenly, he can sense the daylight stealing his plans away from him, too.

Granted, he doesn't know why Gustave is there. Maybe he just wanted some bread or some pastries. But he does know that he'd spoken to Sciel and Lune because those were the terms of his own speaking with Maelle: how could you tell him? And that means that he can't just slink upstairs and pretend like there's nothing to talk about. So, he makes his way over, clearing his throat once he's near enough to be noticed, then gesturing towards the chair across from Gustave.]

Want some company?

[He sounds exactly like a man whose world hasn't come crashing down on him for the Nth time. At least he still has his masks.]

[xmarkstheshot]

[Gustave has started on his second baked good when the gulls flutter away all at once. A part of him assumes it's probably nothing aside from birds spooking each other, but he glances up all the same to see a man approach. At first, he doesn't recognize him, so he sits up straighter and adopts a genial expression, in case this stranger has approached him with a business inquiry or other related matter.

He is, after all, a respected engineer, and, admittedly, one of the success factors behind the 33rd Expedition. While it doesn't happen as often anymore, curious people have approached him in the past to glean some insider information from him, or journalists have taken a statement from him when the anniversary of the 33s setting sail rolled around. But when he takes in the man's face, recognition finally hits him and he relaxes, smiling a little. The voice only confirms it.]

Oh. Verso.

[He may not be Gustave's preferred companion, but after recent events and their previous conversations, it's fitting that he and Verso should keep meeting like this. They're still not close, and probably can't be considered friends yet, but in a way, Gustave trusts him more than anyone when it comes to Maelle. That counts for something. It counts for quite a bit.]

Oh, sure. Would you like one?

[He holds the bag of madeleines open for Verso, though it's possible the sight and smell of more pastries won't hold the same appeal for the man who lives above the boulangerie. But there's no harm in asking; Gustave's mother taught him that.

He takes in Verso's appearance - the hat is new and throws him off a bit - as well as his face. This is the first time Gustave has seen him in actual sunlight, too. It strikes him, then, that Verso looks almost...younger. Has his hair always been that dark?]

[tableauvivant]

[The slight turning up of Verso's nose in response to Gustave's offer isn't intentional; his stomach is still at war with the concept of sustenance, and just thinking about food causes it to churn in objection. He brushes it off with a more deliberate shake of his head as he pulls out the chair and takes a seat, finally responding once he's settled into place.]

Thanks but I, uh, just ate.

[It soon becomes clear that Gustave is not, in fact, here to report the news of his conversations with the ladies, which finds Verso giving into another subconscious impulse, this time to gaze back up at his apartment and try not to wish that he had made a different choice. Not that he minds Gustave's company, of course, but rather that he minds his own.

What he can't mind is his own business – he's effectively trapped himself in needing to pry in order to play at being in a conversational mood – so he makes a loose gesture towards what he is assuming are Gustave's work clothes, then gives another stellar demonstration of what happens to one's social skills after one loses the drive to put them to use.]

Productive day at work?

[It's a dumb question. The kind people ask when passing each other on the street and that either goes nowhere or that keeps one of them there for entirely longer than they'd wanted to be standing around and chatting for. But So, I heard you told Sciel and Lune invites questions about how he'd heard and what had happened between him and Maelle, questions that he's hardly chomping at the bit to answer, and so it goes that he makes awkward small talk instead.]

[xmarkstheshot]

[There's no offense taken at Verso's refusal, nor does Gustave have any real reason to think he's lying. So he shrugs and tears off a small piece to eat himself, now that the birds have been momentarily scared away, though he glances up to see Verso look elsewhere - his apartment? Right, he does live above the boulangerie. Interesting, then, that he should choose to take a detour toward Gustave instead of going back home if he wants to be there. But then Gustave could be reading too much into a single look. Maybe he's not looking toward his apartment at all, but something else that's caught his eye. So, he lets it go. If Verso really wants to leave, it's not as if Gustave is trapping him here.

Which makes the small talk surprising, too, though Gustave easily goes along with it, mouth adopting a lopsided smile.]

Ah, no more than usual. Not that it hasn't been steady or anything, just...

[He could go into more detail, but there's a difference between discussing blueprints and plans and mathematical irregularities with a colleague and someone clearly just filling the silence. Verso is undoubtedly smart enough to understand at least some of what Gustave does, probably, but it's a matter of whether he's currently interested. Besides, Gustave's heart isn't exactly inspired right now with the city's future infrastructure, which would make for an even more dull conversation.

His smile lessens and he takes another bite.]

I've been...a little distracted. You know, after...

[He gestures wordlessly between the two of them with his prosthetic hand, though that hardly clears anything up. Breathing out softly, Gustave quickly looks around their table, satisfied when no one else lingers too closely. All the same, he leans across the table a little more and lowers his voice.]

After we last met.

[And he learned the truth about Maelle slowly dying. And how no one else felt the need to tell him.]

It doesn't help, I've, uh...kicked the proverbial hornets' nest, too.

[tableauvivant]

[Under other circumstances, Verso might have laughed a bit over how conspiratorial Gustave is being. Not in a bad way or a judgmental one, just in the context of what it reveals about his personality. He tries not to picture how he might have approached the mysteries of the Continent that he'd missed out on discovering first-hand, tries not to imagine him bent over his journal, furiously scribbling his thoughts down before they're overtaken by something else.

It doesn't work, and guilt renders Verso grateful that he'd turned down that Madeleine.

That's not the only surge of guilt he feels; Gustave introduces the subject of Sciel and Lune – or so Verso assumes, anyway – with enough vagueness to suggest that Maelle might be the hornet instead. Which isn't the case, of course, but which introduces a problem regarding how Verso can respond. Asking for clarity about the nest itself is a direct lie, and one that will undoubtedly bite him in the ass when it comes his turn to confess to what he knows. Once again, he doesn't want to admit that he heard yet, either, which feels far easier to justify later on. He's not ready to talk about it yet. He doesn't want his encounter with Maelle to overtake whatever happened between Gustave and his friends. Et cetera. Which all combines to mean that he can't be forthright quite yet, and which leaves him a bit conflicted.

Even so, after a moment's pause spent tapping his fingers on the table, he offers:]

Sounds about right.

[That it doesn't help. That it's distracting. It feels a bit too flippant once it's been spoken, but it's too late to go back on it now, so he presses on with the same tone, light until he's given greater cause to not be light, and awkward in a way that he's probably going to have to grow accustomed to in the coming weeks as he tries to get his shit together and figure out how to gather together more of his long-lost drive to keep trying.]

How'd it go?

[xmarkstheshot]

[Gustave shrugs a shoulder again and tears off another bite, wondering where to start. The chronological order of events would be the easiest, and would make the most sense, but then there are unnecessary details, as well as the respect and love he holds for Sciel and Lune, so if he isn't careful, he could make them sound heartless or ungrateful.

One of the gulls from before returns with a flurry of wings, head bobbing expectantly. Gustave resumes his feeding, not unhappy with the quick distraction. But it is a distraction. He could report the facts, try to keep things as impersonal as he realistically can, or he can give a little more. Looking back at Verso across the table, Gustave feels some sort of camaraderie with him, or maybe he's simply looking for it. Someone in this whole city who may really understand how he's feeling, to some degree, and not try to convince him to feel some other way or give him excuses.]

It, uh... It hurts. To have my suspicions confirmed.

[A little quirk of the lips. Another scrap for the gull.]

I understand why Sciel and Lune didn't tell me. It makes sense, anyway. Sciel feels bad, which makes me feel bad, but...you know, there was all this time. I think...maybe in a different life, she would have been more forthcoming. If Maelle hadn't brought Pierre back. But she has everything she's ever wanted and I would be an ass if I condemned her for that. I'm living the best outcome for myself, too, which makes me stirring up trouble, just...

[A part of him has thought about letting it all go. This life is peaceful. Full. Turning a blind eye would only eventually hurt one person, not potentially the world's entire population. But he's never been one for the easy way out. Not even after he lost Sophie to the Gommage all those years ago.

Gustave studies Verso's face, gauging if his next words may cause problems. He starts off almost hesitantly.]

Lune... You know her. She's more persistent than anyone else I know, except for maybe Maelle. I think she's guilty about it, too, but she also told me not to believe everything you say. So. She didn't deny it, though.

[Which got Gustave to thinking about his and Verso's past conversations and deciding whether or not he should take the man at face-value. But Lune not outright denying his own accusation speaks its own truth.

Another scrap for the gull, and a friend that deemed it safe to return.]

I haven't spoken to Maelle yet. I'm...afraid. That I'll be the villain, and that's the last thing I want. Or maybe I'm overthinking everything.

[tableauvivant]

[Gustave hesitates before sharing about Lune, but it confirms Verso's suspicions rather than causing him any problems: she is more-or-less playing along with the idea of keeping his truths from Gustave as well. After all, it would have been easy for her to reveal exactly why he isn't to be blindly trusted, letting Gustave know the whole of the truth, at least by her understanding. Like how Verso had always known what would happen when the Paintress was expelled form the Canvas, and that he had wanted to bring that about the entire time. Even, perhaps, that he fought Maelle – was willing to hurt Maelle – if that was what it took.

That doesn't exactly comfort him, though. There's always been a taunting clock at the back of his mind, ticking to extents that he hasn't been able to drown out yet, but now its pace intensifies. The more Verso pushes towards an end where Maelle ceases to be a permanent fixture of the Canvas, the easier it will be for the truth to come spilling out. And when that happens, if comes from anyone's mouth besides his own, then he stands to lose everything once again, and Maelle stands to lose everything, and the Canvas itself may stand to lose everything.

Still, the timing isn't right for him to validate Lune's concerns. They're out in the bloody open, for one; for another, with only two conversations between them and with each man having no real way of knowing what everyone else has shared about the other, there are a lot of unknowable complexities to consider. Verso needs to be more sure that it won't backfire in his face, as things often tend to do.

Which means that he's quietly following along, expression neutral throughout – minus a soft smile to telegraph that he's unbothered when the Lune thing comes up – as he tries to figure out which of the still-many paths ahead he should take. Ultimately, he decides that he can't really speak to Sciel or Lune's reactions – or even to Gustave's dynamic with them – but he can address what he says about Maelle.

Trust me, he almost begins with, but thinks better of it, all considered.]

For what it's worth, I don't think you have to worry about that. Alicia... she holds on tight to the things that matter to her.

[Too fucking tight. Not that Maelle doesn't, but it isn't his place to tell Gustave what she is and isn't like; he barely knows her.]

She'll probably be more worried about you. You know, whether you're happy, if something's wrong, what she could do differently.

[At least that's how she treated him. And while he supposes she might take another approach with Gustave, he still suspects that she'll be kinder to him, not more accusatory, if only because he hasn't made her as desperate as Verso has. Which is fair, he knows; he has badly hurt her, and twice over in short order.]

[xmarkstheshot]

[The things that matter to her. Gustave nods at that assessment, having witnessed it plenty of times with Maelle. How, when she eventually warmed up to him, she would practically orbit him at home, sometimes. Or when she would return from the orphanage after that year's Gommage and through held-back tears of frustration tell Gustave about how unfair it all was. And then at the Cliffs...

When she brought him back...

When she spoke of Verso returning to Lumiere...

Maelle holds on tight, but she's also a loyal being once someone has earned her trust. Gustave understands that stemmed from her near-constant shuffling of foster families, but it only exacerbated her fear of abandonment. On the one hand, that makes her one of the best allies, in times of actual trouble or just to sit and talk with. But then, doesn't it also stunt her own freedom?

To always be aware like that. Constantly concerned for others.

Gustave frowns, tearing off another piece of the madeleine for the gulls to fight over before fitting the remaining piece in his mouth. As he chews, he mulls over all these thoughts, and the new scenario Verso presents. It isn't as if Maelle hasn't treated Gustave like that before, with the worrying and the need to make things better if she can. She never felt like she fit in in Lumiere, after all, and her own history had taught her that change always lurked just around the corner. It didn't matter if she ran away and was a difficult ward. It didn't matter if she tried to be the best child.

The Gommage came for everyone, eventually.]

I wish she wouldn't.

[He catches Verso's eye from across the table again.]

I'm her guardian. Or, well. I was. All the dynamics are kind of...

[Verso probably understands without Gustave trying to find the words, but he still settles on holding out his hand and wobbling it back and forth a bit.]

And she's not a child anymore. Sometimes I do a poor job remembering that.

[tableauvivant]

[A sigh – involuntary – at the comment about Maelle's age. As far as Verso knows, she is still just a child, eternally sixteen years old, the white of her hair and the lines in her skin speaking of something far, far more ominous than the natural passage of time. And were they somewhere more private, he might have cut in here, let Gustave know the truth about the form of Maelle's existence, now – about the form of his own – but Mathilde's is a popular enough place on a well-travelled street, and passersby are still curious about the mysterious stranger who lives among them, playing them his beautiful music like he's someone who wants to be seen and heard. So, he rolls it off with a casual shrug of his shoulders and a raising of his hands in a gesture of younger sisters, am I right?]

Yeah, me too.

[Emphatically, though that doesn't register in his tone which veers more towards exhaustion and regret. Gustave's eyes meet his own and he has to force himself to remain present and not lose himself in the near distance, numbing himself against the pain of not being allowed to make his own damned choices about his own damned life. Emphasis on damned, he thinks, and that's enough to bring a self-deprecating smile to his lips, one that might even pass as a reaction to the wobbling of Gustave's hand.

What else is he going to do? Let his heart bleed out here on the street?]

So. [He says after a moment. Then, after another:] Have you thought about how you're going to bring it up with Maelle?

[It's not meant to be conspiratorial, but in the absence of the truth about what had happened between himself and Maelle, Verso can't help but feel a little bit shifty in its asking. Once more his focus trails towards his apartment, though this time it stops at the boulangerie doors where Mathilde is handing over a few boxes of pastries to one of the couriers.

He waves. She waves back. Everything is fine.]

[xmarkstheshot]

[It strikes Gustave again how much he and Verso have in common, or at least this one thing. Brotherhood. Caring for the same girl. Just...trying.

It isn't as if he never knew anyone else with a younger sister or sibling; Sol obviously had Lune, but there hadn't been a large age gap between them. Just like he and Emma were close in age. One of the necessities of a shortened lifespan; if a family wanted to last, they had to be productive about it.

But then there's Verso. Or Verso's memories of another man. However either of them want to reconcile a mother's decisions.

Or cruelty, Gustave thinks unkindly, but that's another matter.

But Verso understands the complilexity of the situation, and more than from just a brother's perspective. The truth is, Gustave still isn't sure how to approach Maelle. He can shut himself down with every negative outcome. Maelle feeling cornered. Maelle flat out refusing to listen. Maelle simply deciding to never leave, no matter what. It's easy to think this way, to be defeatist. Gustave has fallen prey to such thinking too many times.

He sighs, crumbling the pastry bag closed. Time to focus.]

I'm still... I mean, you know how Maelle can be. Scared when she's not confident about something.

[Which isn't really an answer, he knows.]

Gentle honesty. If I try to hide it from her for too long, that runs the risk of upsetting her even more. I can't ask her to go home bluntly. She's always fought back against that suggestion, even before she remembered who she was.

[A pause, feeling that all this still isn't quite enough.]

...I want to ask her to tell me about her family. To hear it from her, you know? Not that I don't believe everything you've told me, it's just...I think it's important that she has a voice, too. Especially since she doesn't really outside of here.

[That's another thing Gustave has taken away from the years he acted as her guardian. Talking over Maelle only left her avoidant and distant, but letting her explain herself gave them a chance to connect and learn and grow. Surely it's the same now, despite all the differences between them.

Gustave lifts his gaze back to Verso, almost as if to silently ask if that sounds reasonable, though it certainly does. But instead, he catches the other man glancing around, back at the apartment windows about the boulangerie. He frowns a little, but also doesn't stop him from waving to Mathilde herself.

He leans forward again and drops his voice, less in conspiracy and more out of concern.]

Hey. You all right?

[tableauvivant]

No, it makes sense.

[Asking for Maelle's perspective. Verso knows it won't be favourable – and given how she's taken to lying to get her way, he suspects there might be some embellishments, too – but it should help complete the picture a little better for Gustave, at least. And while it could easy backfire on Verso if Maelle tries to weaponise his past in order to convince Gustave to ignore everything he's said, that's not something he's going to be able to preempt. Not without telling him the whole truth of what happened on the Stone Wave Cliffs, anyway, which Verso still has no plans to do. He's less worried about Maelle sharing that than the rest because of how deeply it would jeopardise the harmonious existence she wants so desperately to foster.

So, he plays it all off. Acts like there's nothing to worry about on his end. Convinces himself he might even be right.]

It'd probably help her to talk about those things, too. Even back home, the only people she reached out to, well, they were the ones who started the fire, so.

[Not the best track record there.

And of course there's the matter of how adherent she's become to being Maelle and not Alicia; Verso's absence has left him virtually uninformed about whether she even skirts the topic of her life in Paris, never mind reaching out to anyone about the pains and uncertainties she inherited from her paintress side. Instinct tells him that she hasn't. Or, in the event that she has, it's been a while.

Or he's just thinking out of his ass. That's always possible,

But then Gustave leans in and asks his question, and Verso almost laughs over how quickly the words oh, absolutely not come to mind. They won't be coming to mouth, though, so he shakes his head instead and quirks a halved smile, one that's maybe a bit too perfectly casual.]

Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm fine.

[A contemplative silence. The way Gustave put that too long only heightens the sense of immediacy, and the crumbling of that pastry bag leaves Verso wondering whether he's planning on heading off soon, maybe going home to help Sophie with dinner and making plans to speak with Maelle before Verso can reach out to him again. Which can't happen for a multitude of reasons, and which forces Verso's hand.]

You don't need to be anywhere, do you? There's something I should tell you.

[xmarkstheshot]

[Getting Maelle to willingly speak solely about her life after the fire seems...unlikely. Maybe bits and pieces and here and there, which would be better than nothing. Perhaps details interspersed with anecdotes about her father, her mother, her sister, anything she might let slip that way. But Gustave can be patient. Whatever Maelle does end up sharing, Gustave will listen. He'll always listen.

And he'll certainly be a better and more trustworthy audience than a bunch of arsonists. That reminder boils his blood; how anyone could purposefully harm an innocent and unsuspecting person like that sets his flesh hand curling into a fist, though he quickly realizes and relaxes. Getting upset won't help or change anything. It isn't as if he can even do anything from his place in the Canvas, a thought which only settles sourly in the pit of his stomach. Not for the first time it strikes Gustave just how ironic it is that despite his knowledge and experience, his hands remain tied in these matters.

Before he can dwell too deeply on that sad state of affairs, Verso answers his question with the expected response. Perhaps expected is too presumptive, but Gustave himself is a practiced purveyor of such answers. I'm fine is a familiar phrase, one that rolls so easily off his tongue when he wants to avoid certain conversation. Does he believe Verso? Not necessarily. Is he at a point where he's willing to push? No. Even if he and Verso have formed some sort of rapport, the fact remains that they've only met twice before. Hardly enough times to become bosom buddies. No, if Verso wants to speak his mind, then he will. Similarly to how he feels about Maelle sharing more sensitive details.

Something they all have in common. Or maybe it's a Dessendre trait, painted or otherwise.

Gustave nods, willing to let it go, but then Verso asks for more of his time. That's fine - actually fine - except that the promise of another shared secret fills Gustave with dread. Fuck, what else is there?]

Oh. No, I can be free for a while longer. Should I...be worried?

[He forces out a little laugh, trying to make himself feel more at ease than he actually is.]

[tableauvivant]

[The puff of air that follows Gustave's question could be read as sardonic laughter, an answer in its own right should Gustave read between the lines of Verso's breaths. Suddenly, Verso isn't sure why he put off broaching the topic; a force of habit, perhaps, of still seeking justifications to conceal uncomfortable truths. At least now he's able to bite back the impulse to play things light or else downplay them entirely.]

Yeah, you should be worried.

[Not to the same extent as Verso, he suspects – there's no reason for Maelle to toy with the fabric of Gustave's existence when he isn't in a state of constant rebellion against its continuation – but the fact that she's willing to exert her Paintress powers at all in the interest of nipping things in the bud is alarming, both for the uncertainty of how far she might go and for the surety of how using those powers will only drain her all the more quickly.]

She already knows. Sciel and Lune told her. Or one or the other. I don't know. Didn't ask.

[He had other things on his mind. Which is a big part of what drove him to accept her offer of reversing his ageing; getting the fuck out of there so he could clear his head before it shattered from the pressure and he lost even more of himself to the memory of the real Verso. Before Maelle lost more of herself, too, to the desperation that's been keeping her going for over a decade now, eating away at the girl she once was and the woman she was supposed to become.

None of that really shows in any readable way; there's tension to the slant of Verso's shoulders and to the lift of his neck, and tightness defines his expression, but none of the anguish, or the existential dread, or the ideation that's never left him makes its way through.]

[xmarkstheshot]

[And the dread only solidifies upon Verso's acknowledgment. Gustave sits up straighter all the same, gives the other man his attention, because he has no intention of taking this lying down. Whatever this is.

Which ends up being a fact that isn't exactly desirable, but Gustave can work with it. His entire life has been a practice of juggling the lemons life has thrown at him, after all. What stings more, though, is the sense of betrayal again. That his friends would take what he told them out of concern and frustration and go to Maelle. Like they've tattled on him. And that's such a laughably childish way to feel, but it is how he feels, and it all just adds more weight to his shoulders. He sighs, resigned.]

...Really?

[Who can he really trust anymore? Should he say anything ever again? Why does he keep trying?

(For Maelle. It has to be for Maelle.)

Gustave shakes his head and runs his hand through his hair, something that's becoming a habit.]

Well. That makes things harder.

[Because now Maelle will be aware, maybe even wary of him, and Gustave is sure that will only make her harder to approach and speak to on an equal level. And even if Verso thinks she'll never villainize him, Gustave isn't convinced he won't still be considered a problem, of sorts. Someone who's too smart, too curious, too invested.

His hand suddenly itches for a rock.

As he sits there and thinks on what Verso said, though, it sinks in that Verso must have visited Maelle, too, at some point. An angry, hurt voice in the back of his head wonders if Verso was going to snitch on him, too, and just got beat out by Lune or Sciel, but he ignores it. After their previous talks, that doesn't seem quite right.]

How was she? When you saw her.

[tableauvivant]

She was... fighting to put on a brave face.

[Even succeeded for a while. There had seemed to be some effort on her part to demonstrate an actual interest in his perspectives, enough to make him fleetingly hopeful that his decade-long absence had at least done something to strengthen the delineation of where the real Verso's existence ends and his own begins. Of course, that hadn't been the case, a thought which finds Verso shrugging his hands in defeat.]

Stopped by last night with dinner. Tried to make small talk for a while about how I was enjoying life in Lumiere until she couldn't take it anymore, I guess. The worry must've got the better of her.

[And she started asking what was wrong, why he still wasn't happy. Hadn't he found his welcome to be warm? Was he not feeling at home in his former apartment, made up exactly how Maelle thought he'd like it? Didn't he enjoy performing at the opera house? Weren't Sciel and Lune treating him kindly? Surely he must have enjoyed seeing Esquie and Monoco again, right? What about the food, real food, and the first new set of clothing he's worn in nearly a century?

It's a fight to keep concern the dominant force behind his expression; bitterness and restlessness and exhaustion are far stronger. But it's a battle he's fought before and often wins, so he's able to maintain the lie at least a little while longer, even knowing that it's futile given how Maelle's desperation has now changed him from the outside.]

Things seemed okay when I left, but, well.

[Gustave knows how she is.]

[xmarkstheshot]

[Gustave struggles to put his own bitterness away, though it simmers more than boils for now. He has to set it aside, listening to Verso's account of his visit. Though Gustave also has to connect some mental dots to help it all make more sense. Why would Maelle need to be brave around her brother? But then if she now knows that Gustave is aware of her situation and she learned it from Lune or Sciel and Gustave told them that Verso brought that fact to light, then...it all comes back to Verso. Verso, who just wants her to live.

He feels sick.]

...I've gotten you caught in the middle.

[He should have just gone to Maelle first. Completely bypassed his friends like they've bypassed him with knowledge and gotten to the root of the problem. No, not a problem. Maelle isn't a problem, she's simply...scared? Putting off returning to a life she doesn't want? He can't condemn her for that.]

Putain, Verso. I never meant... I'm sorry.

[Whatever plan he may have had before about confronting Maelle is going to have to be reworked, perhaps scrapped altogether. Easing her into this conversation isn't really an option anymore, but neither does rushing in feel right. Gustave can put his faith in Verso's assessment of Maelle's opinion of him, still try to be her brother and not become the bad guy in all this. As things are looking now, faith might be all he has to go on.

Which is one hell of a gamble.]

I'll talk to her. Try and smooth things out. The last thing we need is for her to dig her heels in deeper.

[This entire situation is difficult enough without more complications.

Gustave exhales and taps a finger of his prosthetic against the tabletop. Stubbornness remains a consistent trait among himself and Maelle. And, if he thinks about it, the Paintress, too, right? To his understanding, hadn't she become more entrenched in this world because she simply didn't want to leave? Which led to the Fracture, trapping her in the Monolith, and solidifying her place in this world for sixty-seven years.

And she had been powerful. One of the most talented Painters in her own world, and yet she still got stuck here. If another Fracture were to happen, or something like it, would Maelle be able to survive it?]